


The Sticky-Fingered Elf

by Treon



Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 19:27:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/917139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treon/pseuds/Treon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter is sure Neal's playing tricks on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sticky-Fingered Elf

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LeesaPerrie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeesaPerrie/gifts).



"Vital papers will demonstrate their vitality by moving from where you left them to where you can't find them."  
\-- Anon

*****

"Come on. Peter, you can't do this to me." Neal followed Peter up the stairs to the Burkes house.

"I'm not doing anything to you." Peter opened the door. "Hey, Hon."

"Peter, Neal" El greeted them with a smile. "Food's in the fridge." Peter had called earlier to say they'll be on a stakeout that evening, and El had prepared them both packed dinners.

"I can do this in half an hour tops," Neal promised. "I'll even skip the hors d'oeuvres."

Peter rolled his eyes. It amazed him that Neal actually thought that was a sacrifice on his part. "I said no."

Elizabeth looked at the two men. "What are we talking about?"

Peter waved a hand dismissively. "Fancy reception Neal decided he just has to go to." He put his briefcase on the counter and started emptying it out. He'd brought a bunch of new cases from work he wanted to review later with El.

"Oooh, where?"

Peter shook his head at her. "Don't encourage him."

But it was too late. Neal parked himself in front of Elizabeth, lighting up animatedly, "The British Consulate are celebrating the birth of the new crown prince. And I got tickets." He produced the tickets in question and waved them around. "Everybody who's anybody is going to be there."

As far as Peter was concerned, that was enough of a reason for Neal not to be there. "I'm sure there'll be another one down the line."

"Another *what*?" Neal couldn't believe that Peter really didn't get the earth-shattering importance of this momentous event. "This is a once in a lifetime event."

Peter opened the fridge door, looking for the food his wife had prepared. "Believe me, it's not. I was there for the last one, and I'm hoping to be alive for a couple more."

Luckily for Neal, El jumped to his rescue. "Why shouldn't he go, Hon?"

Peter looked up from his work, brow furrowed at the double-pronged attack. "Because I have other priorities at the moment other than Neal Caffrey's cultural edification."

Neal turned to Peter. "Yesterday you said I could go."

"Well, yesterday I didn't realize we were going to have a stakeout tonight." Peter packed his stakeout dinner and handed Neal El's prepared package. "Here you go."

"You won't even notice I'm gone."

Peter gave him a dry look. "Oh, believe me, I'll notice."

"But-"

"No."

Neal turned to Elizabeth, but she shrugged with a sympathetic smile. "Sorry."

*****

The next morning Peter appeared in the kitchen, yawning. "Morning."

Elizabeth put a mug of coffee in his hands, greeting him with a cheerful kiss. "Morning, Honey. When did you come in?"

Peter took a quick sip. "Oh, thanks. I think it was after three. I didn't realize it was going to take so long yesterday. And Neal thought he could spare the time for a birthday party." He shook his head.

"Yeah, Peter, I don't think it was a birthday party so much as a royal-"

Peter paused as he looked at the counter. "Honey, did you move the file that was here?"

"What file?"

"I brought in the new cases yesterday, and I had my eye on one." He went through the pile, just to make sure he hadn't gotten it wrong. "And now it's missing."

Elizabeth shrugged. "Maybe it's those elves who used to steal our socks."

"Yeah." Peter's thoughts were elsewhere. "I'm thinking I know which 'elf' it was this time."

Elizabeth's eyes widened as realization dawned. "Neal?"

"I had it right here on the counter, remember?"

Elizabeth shrugged. She hadn't paid attention. "Are you sure?"

"Damn sure." Peter tapped his finger on the counter. "It was right here."

"Have you looked upstairs?"

"I didn't bring it upstairs. We were standing right here, and by the time we got back I didn't have time to look them over."

"In the car?"

"It was right here, El."

"Ok." She considered her husband for a moment. "Good thing there's a Neal around."

Peter shot her a look.

"Beats blaming those elves who used to steal our socks."  
*****

By the time Peter got to work, he decided on a plan of action. He was going to give Neal a chance to own up to his little trick. And then he was going to get upset.

Neal was sitting by his desk, reading the New York Times society pages. He looked up when Peter stopped by. "Turns out there's another-" Neal stopped mid-sentence when he saw Peter, a slight frown passing over his features. "You don't look happy."

"That's very perceptive of you."

"Missed out on your beauty sleep? I'm sure you'd have felt a lot better if we'd skipped that stakeout yesterday."

Peter decided it was time for a few questions of his own. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit disappointed, I guess. But there's another-"

"I guess that makes two of us. What a coincidence," Peter responded dryly.

Neal wasn't sure he liked where this was going. "Is it?"

"That's exactly what I'd like to know."

"OK, Peter, you realize you're not making any sense."

Peter sighed. "One of my files disappeared yesterday. You wouldn't happen to know where it is, would you?"

Neal shook his head. "Nope."

Peter had expected Neal to gloat. "If you had to guess, where would you say it was?"

"If I had to guess?" Peter wasn't usually the playing games kind of person.

"Yeah."

"You left it in your car?"

Peter shook his head.

"Moved it to the living room?"

Peter shook his head.

Neal sighed. This could take a loooooooooooong time. "Did you try the top drawer of that writing desk, where you keep all your doodling attempts?"

"How do you know what I keep there? It's locked."

Oh. Neal shrugged. "Lucky guess?" He could see Peter wasn't amused. "Maybe Elizabeth moved it?"

"El had no idea what I was talking about."

"That makes two of us," Neal muttered under his breath.

Peter could see he wasn't getting anywhere and he didn't have the energy to play Neal's games today. "OK. Well, if you happen to remember where that file went, I'll be in my office."

"If I happen to remember where you put it." Neal repeated, unsure he heard correctly.

Peter held his gaze. "That's right."

"Right. So.." Neal tried going back to his original statement, "Turns out the British Consulate are having another reception tonight. So unless you're planning a stakeout tonight.." Neal smiled his most charming smile.

"I'm planning a stakeout for the rest of the week."

"The week?!" Neal's jaw dropped.

"Yep," Peter threw over his back as he headed towards his office. "The week."

Neal dropped the paper back on his desk. He had no idea what just went down.

*****

Peter wasn't in a good mood when he returned home. Neal had managed to get through the day pretending nothing was wrong, and Peter was getting tired of pretending along with him.

His wife didn't help matters any.

"I found your elf." Elizabeth held up a thoroughly chewed-up file.

Peter's eyes bulged. "Gah!"

El handed it over. "I think you owe somebody an apology."

"An apology?! That dog just destroyed my case."

El rolled her eyes. "I'm talking about Neal."

"Neal? But-" Peter sighed. He was sure that it was only a coincidence that Neal wasn't actually responsible this time around.

Under his wife's glare he took out his phone.

"Hey, Neal. Yeah. About that party thing tonight.."


End file.
